


Prom Night

by ACatWhoWrites



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Awkward Flirting, First Dates, Gen, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: Why is prom so important, again? Junghae doesn't know, but it's enough of a Thing that when her classmates hear she's not going (i.e., she doesn't have a date, which is apparently the same as not going), they are Shocked and Appalled. Cue handsome prince of the school, Chanyeol Park, to the rescue, asking if she's standing him up.Junghae didn't know they were going together, but okay.





	Prom Night

**Author's Note:**

> (prompt no.114) I set this in California, because prom is a big deal here but taking off elsewhere. It's been so long, though, that I can't remember how high school worked... I never went to any school functions, either, so this is all imagination and Google.
> 
> The family dog mentioned is named after Jiman Choi, who's playing with the Milwaukee Brewers.⚾

Prom.

The make-it-or-break-it-and-suffer-social-ostracization-for-the-rest-of-the-year event.

Or, as Junghae saw it, simply an overpriced school dance with even more awkwardness and anxiety and forced interaction among supposed peers. What’s worse, it’s prom _season_. They can’t just have the one night and forget about it.

Somehow, it’s a big deal.

Somehow, people actually care that Junghae doesn’t think it’s a big deal.

And by “people,” Junghae means the girls in her senior class.

She’s sitting in homeroom, chin in her hand, staring at a collection of classmates with their hair in high buns and athletic pants tucked into knock-off Ugg boots and waiting for them to stop talking.

“Why does anything I do-or-don’t-do matter to you?” she finally asks after their tirade.

“Because you’re representing our class.” _Duh_. One student represents all, obviously, and of course it’d be the Asian girl representing the school of predominantly upper-middle-class white kids.

“And it’s just pathetic when a girl can’t even get a date to prom.”

Junghae resists rolling her eyes and faces the trio fully. “Listen, I appreciate your concern for my social well-being, but… Maybe you can pay more attention to your test scores. I helped Teacher Choi grade our math exams, and…” she sighs and shakes her head sadly. “At least one of you may be _barred_ from the dance. Is that how you represent our class and fellow woman? Too stupid to even reach a passing score of a D-?”

They collectively scoff, although the petite brunette’s ears burn red. “You think you’re hot shit, don’t you?”

She shrugs and nods a little. They scoff.

“It’s that attitude guys don’t like. It won’t just be prom but your whole miserable life that you’ll be pathetic and alone.”

Junghae’s about to declare how perfectly fine she is with that when a tall, wide-eyed boy steps up to the little group, looking right at Junghae like she’s punted a kitten.

“You’re not planning on standing me up, are you?”

“Oh my God, Park. You’re not seriously going out with her, are you?”

He looks at them and frowns, as though just realizing they have an audience. “Why not? And why do you care?”

“She just _studies_. She’s _boring_.”

“Maybe I don’t want anyone more exciting. Maybe I just want her.”

Junghae blushes. She’s heard of Chanyeol Park and seen him around. Anyone would have to be deaf and blind not to. He’s a popular student for his looks and musical talent; he’s also notoriously friendly with everyone, likened to a puppy by a few acquaintances. Cliques don’t seem to exist in his eyes, and he manages to befriend just about everyone. Baekhee has music with him and enthusiastically recounted one day that the two of them were goofing off and got sent into the hall by their teacher.

Personally, Junghae prefers to be by herself or with quiet company—so it’s a wonder she’s as close to Baekhee as she is—but she doesn’t _not_ like Chanyeol. He is really nice and can read people pretty well; they work in the library together after lunch, and he’s never pushed her for extensive conversation or distracted her from whatever she was working on.

“Excuse me.” Quiet company extraordinaire Kyungsoon Do appears behind Junghae, her dark hair framing her contrastingly pale face. “Why are you by my seat? You’ll dirty it.”

The girls subconsciously scoot closer together. “None of your business, _freak_.” They leave, and Kyungsoon levels a look at Chanyeol.

“You’d better not be picking on her, too, Chanyeol Park.” She says his name like a curse. Some students say she’s actually a witch or possessed by a spirit. Junghae knows she’s just anxious and keeps her hair long and loose to hide behind. It’s kind of cute, sometimes. With her round eyes, she’s like an owl looking out from its hidey-hole in a tree.

“I-I’m really not, Kyungsoon. I promise. I just overheard those girls and thought I could do something.”

“Your singing could scare the devil away.”

“Well, you would know,” Chanyeol mutters. Junghae laughs behind her hand and waves at Kyungsoon with the other.

“Prince Charming here just acted like we were going to prom together to get them off my back. That’s all, Soonie. It’s fine.” Kyungsoon tilts her head in a semi-shrug and sits beside Junghae.

Chanyeol doesn’t seem to know if he’s dismissed or not; he rubs the back of his neck and starts to chatter, “It was the first thing that I thought of. I mean, _honestly_ , if they want to tease everyone without dates, they should pick on me, too, or _look in a mirror_ , because I’m pretty sure I overheard them making plans to go as a girl group. Which, like, no big deal. The societal pressure to take a date to prom is overrated; it’s just a glorified school dance like in middle school. Only much more expensive.”

Junghae eyes the clock. Not unkindly, she asks, “Does your rambling have a point, Chanyeol? Class is starting soon.”

“Oh, sorry! No, but—maybe, if, I mean, you did wanna go to prom, Junghae, I’m not going with anyone, yet, and it’s not as fun going alone. We could even skip out and go see a movie or something—”

 _Ah ha_... She smiles, curled lips turning Cheshire. “Chanyeol Park, are you asking me out?”

“I’m trying.” Chanyeol laughs and licks his lips.

Junghae looks at Kyungsoon, who shrugs. She could do worse. “Why not?” Kyungsoon says. “If he tries anything, we can always get rid of his body.”

Junghae smiles pleasantly at Chanyeol, who’s broken out in a cold sweat. He feels his shirt starting to cling to his back. “Sounds good to me. Are you sure, though? I’m boring and study a lot.”

“I don’t mind boring, and as long as you don’t bring your textbooks along, I think it’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” She tears a strip of paper from her notebook and writes her name and cell number. “Text me after school, so I’ll have your number. We can work something out this weekend?”

“Yeah!” Kyungsoon flinches at his enthusiastic shout. He blushes and lowers his voice. “Yeah, th-that sounds good. Thank you.” He bows a little and lopes out of the classroom. Junghae thinks she hears him shout again in the hall.

“Well, I think you just made his day.”

“Nothing wrong with being easy to please.” She jumps when her phone vibrates beneath her butt. Chanyeol can’t have texted her already, she thinks, and she’s right. Baekhee is in their chat, sending short snippets of what could be condensed into a single message:

_Did Chanyeol finally ask you out?_

“What does she mean, ‘finally?’” Junghae mutters.

Kyungsoon doodles around her name on a late homework assignment. “Chanyeol’s been talking to Baek for a couple weeks or something, trying to figure out how to ask you out. It’s been kind of pathetic, honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really. You may actually have made his year, if not life.”

“Well, you can be maid of honor at our wedding,” Junghae chirps with a bat of her eyelashes. She responds among Baekhee’s second-by-second updates of Chanyeol’s movements in homeroom and sets her phone to silent.

The homeroom teacher is an older man known for not really doing anything in his class—astronomy, which Junghae actually has an interest in and would actually like to learn about—or in his homeroom, so as long as no one has their phones out, he doesn’t care what they do while the announcements play and handouts are passed with prom rules and regulations and suggestions and tips and everything else about prom that no one reads. The prom committee is looking for volunteers, too, and Junghae notices the society die-hards looking excited about the theme of the year: movie awards.

Most of the fliers just end up as paper airplanes or crumpled balls tossed across the room into the trash cans beside the door. It’s a waste of paper; the school could just post everything online or in a mass email.

Baekhee is beside herself when Junghae tells her about the unexpected prom plans in person after school. Kyungsoon tries to smother her with a pillow, but Baekhee is very good at controlling her breathing and doesn’t pass out.

“Have you found a dress, yet?”

“Baek, I was only asked today.”

“ _Still!_ ” She whirls around to look at Kyungsoon. “You’ve found yours, right?”

“I didn’t know you were going, Kyungsoon.”

She ducks her head, letting her hair fall over her face more. “I asked a friend from another school.”

“He’s _really_ cute,” Baekhee gushes. “If Daehyun hadn’t asked me—”

“You bullied him until he gave in,” Junghae mumbles. “The poor kid.”

“—then I’d’ve hoped Jongin would.” She opens Facebook and searches for the page a classmate made. The girls going to prom made a huge Facebook group and invited every girl in the senior class to join so everyone can post their dresses on it to make sure no one has the same dress There was a fight last year between two girls because their dresses were similar, and while Baekhee’s sure she could beat any girl that tried to start shit with her, she’s planning on spending too much money to ruin her hairstyle or nails.

 

“I honestly think you scare him, Baekhee.”

“Hmm? Why?” She doesn’t seem very bothered, opening another tab and typing in a search for prom dresses. “Okay, so the goal is to balance your proportions and create an ideal hourglass figure... This says that ‘empire-waist dresses and dresses with belted waists, fitted cuts, bodycon dresses, wrap dresses’...yadda yadda yadda…‘petite dresses with accents around the waistline make petite girls look leaner and taller.’”

Junghae looks over her friend’s shoulder. The dresses look like fancy party dresses, not a high school dance sort of dress. “Baek, have you even seen Chanyeol? I’m going to look short no matter what. _Oh my God_. Look at the cost! I can’t afford those.”

“We’re just looking, Hae Hae. Relax. It’s still best to stick with simple styles. They won’t overwhelm your shortness like loud prints or patterns. Oh, how about a v-neck dress? Or, here—this says ‘high-necked dresses, vertical stripes, beaded or sequined dresses will draw attention upwards, seemingly lengthening the upper body.’ That’s what we want, right?”

Junghae shrugs. “I guess? I’ve never put much thought into a dress.”

“Me, either,” Kyungsoon mumbles, bored and braiding the tassels of Baekhee’s blanket.

Baekhee frowns, critically eyeing the dresses on the airbrushed models. “They all have boobs, though. Junghae doesn’t…”

“Well, excuse me!” Junghae wraps the blanket tightly around her shoulders. She’s always been flat-chested. Her mom and sister always feel the need to point it out and try to point out padded bras and certain cuts of tops that would supposedly make her look curvier. She’s perfectly content being boobless; it’s no one’s business. She likes not having to bother with bras or straps or underwires, too. Too often, she’s had to MacGyver a fix for her friends’ busted bras during school.

Kyungsoon nudges her with her foot. “Junghae, what about something like this?” She passes her phone, an image of a woman at least as skinny as Junghae wearing a blazer over a bralette.

“I don’t think that’d be allowed, but it is kinda cute.”

“Lemme see!” Baekhee throws herself between them, ignoring the knee to her ribs. She frowns. “Don’t you want a dress?”

“I dunno. I don’t think I care either way, but I’d want something I can wear again or return easily. What are you wearing?”

“We’re going pink, and I ordered a really pretty princess dress with a long skirt that’s kind of chiffon-y and has that neckline that goes like this.” She draws arches over her boobs that meet in a point at the center of her chest.

“Sweetheart,” Kyungsoon supplies.

“Yes, dear?” Baekhee nuzzles into her obnoxiously. Kyungsoon rolls aside so she falls behind her. “Oh. So, hey, since you’re going, do you have a dress?”

Kyungsoon nods. “I’m borrowing one from my sister.”

“Do you have a picture?”

Kyungsoon burrows a little more but reluctantly scrolls through her phone for a photo.

Baekhee bursts out in delighted laughter. “You look like Wednesday Addams dressing up as her mom!”

Junghae leans over to see. “I think it’s cute.” It’s black velvet with the sleeves open just above the elbow to hang like Morticia’s iconic dresses. “Definitely not California style, but classy. It suits you.” She chuckles, adding, “If I wore white, we’d look like Neapolitan ice cream.”

Baekhee sits up and leans back, throwing out finger guns. “Sweet.” Kyungsoon kicks her with a knee, angry at herself for laughing at something so lame. “Oh! You guys both should come get your legs waxed with me!”

“Baekhee...no.” Junghae hugs her legs to her chest. “I value my flesh too much.” Kyungsoon hums in agreement. Shaving is enough of a pain.

“You’ll come with to get your eyebrows done, at least, right?”

“Again...I really like my flesh where it is.”

“And last time I went with you, that woman nearly ripped out my whole eyebrow.” It grew back, and she learned how to draw and fill eyebrows really well, but she likes her own hairs right where they are. The experience gave her a whole new appreciation for them.

“Just how much are you planning to spend, Baekhee?” Kyungsoon asks.

Baekhee pulls her ponytail over her shoulder. Her roots are showing, and she has put off bleaching them for the sake of getting everything done for prom. “My mom’s paying for my hair and makeup; Dad’s paying for my dress. I told Daehyun I’d buy our tickets, but he’s buying me food.”

Junghae’s phone vibrates somewhere in the pillows. Baekhee pulls it out from beneath Kyungsoon’s hip. “Ooo!” she coos. “It’s Chanyeol!”

“Gimme.”

“No, I’m reading. ‘I am miserable right now.’ What’s he have to be miserable about? He’s tall, athletic, and reasonably handsome.”

“Baek!” Junghae snatches her phone and slips off the bed to sit on the spinny desk chair, drawing her feet up to hug her legs and rest her shin on her knees. She texts back a frowny face. “What’s up?”

“My mom dragged me out to get my pants tailored, because I’m so tall, and the tailor person is making me really uncomfortable.” A gray loading circle makes a couple passes, and Junghae laughs. Chanyeol’s red-faced and stock-still as an enthusiastic middle-aged woman draws a measuring tape down his legs and inseam. The video shakes; whoever is filming is trying not to laugh. A trio of messages follows: “My sister recorded me. I’m waiting, now, because my mom is shopping next door. Do girls have to go through this, too?”

Junghae is a serial texter with nimble thumbs. Soon, her screen is more blue text bubbles than white background. “For dresses, our measurements are commonly the bust, waist, and hips. I went with Baekhee, once, to a shop that had just opened up, and their speciality is lingerie—so underwear. I swear I walked in and had just gone to the nearest rack of whatever when this woman comes out of nowhere and starts measuring me from behind. I’m so flustered that I just stand there and let her; meanwhile, Baek’s laughing her butt off behind that same rack. Like, hey. I’m all for a playful feel now and then, but at least introduce yourself, you know?”

“You type a lot.”

“Sorry. <w>;;”

“Do you have time to talk about prom? I’m just standing around, doing nothing, so…”

“It’s fine. I’m with my friends looking at dresses.”

“Do you have one?”

“Not yet. I kind of want to go gold, though.”

“Does that mean I can get away with a black suit and just get a gold tie?”

“Sounds good to me. Get socks to match, too.”

“I can do that.”

Prom plans over, they text back and forth about their friends’ plans and the ridiculous costs. Their tickets are reasonable, at least. Some other schools go all-out and knock students back some hundreds to even a grand in total costs. Junghae and Chanyeol are but poor children dependent on their allowances, birthday money, and parents.

Kyungsoon finds the dress Junghae eventually buys. It’s a simple gold dress with thin straps, a deep front, and flowing, layered skirts. The best part is she can buy it online with her mom’s credit card, pick it up in the store, and return it once prom is over. Junghae gives it her seal of approval. “Bohemian. It suits my beachy soul.”

She inadvertently counts down to prom night among finishing homework and researching universities. Her dress hangs on the back of her bedroom door, paired with every jacket and sweater and shoes she has at least once.

They planned to meet early, which is good and bad for Junghae. She is usually very patient and relaxed, even under stress, but this is a different kind of pressure. First prom. First date. Junghae’s starting to understand the pressure of prom season.

She anxiously sits on the sofa in front of their front window. She specifically told Chanyeol to be early and is certain she spelled their address right; she checked three times.

“Are you sure you’re going to be warm enough, honey?” her mom asks for the nth time.

“I’m fine.” Junghae stands on her knees to look up and down their street. Her curls tickle her cheeks.

“It’s going to get cold tonight, only in the fifties.”

“Mom.” Junghae sits again and grabs a pillow to stress knead. “I will be fine. We’re going to be inside, anyway.”

“I wish you’d take a jacket…”

“What do you call what I’m wearing?” She had originally thought to just throw a cardigan over her dress, but she found her leather jacket first and liked how it looked more. Is she going to a club? Is she going to get burgers? Who knows.

“What time will you be home?”

“I dunno know yet—Oh!” A car pulls into the driveway. Junghae sees Chanyeol checking himself out in the rearview mirror before taking something from the passenger seat. She bolts off the couch, dances around her mom, and beats Chanyeol to the front door. “Hi! You found us.”

“Yeah, sorry. There was construction I had to work around, and my parents felt the need to lecture me about how to drive again....”

“Junghae, let him in. I want to get pictures.”

She rolls her eyes just so Chanyeol can see, mouthing an apology and closing the door behind him. “Just set your shoes aside. Don't disappoint your ancestors. Oh, cute socks!"

"I couldn't find any that matched my tie, so I wore the most yellow ones I had..." He wiggles his toes, making the Pikachu pattern wave.

"I have those same socks, actually. I love them." Turning with a bright smile, she throws her hands out to present him. "Mom, this is Chanyeol. No, he does not speak Korean. Chanyeol, my mom.”

“Hello, Mrs. Kim.” He looks at his hands, remembering he’s holding a plastic box containing a corsage. “Oh, this is for you,” he says, turning to Junghae again.

“Oh, it’s pretty!” Junghae holds out her wrist, and Chanyeol looks around for a place to set the box when Mrs. Kim offers to take it with a kind smile.

The corsage looks like more embellishment than flowers, but it’s attractive. White flowers sit on golden ribbons and white feathers, a bigger cousin to the boutonniere on Chanyeol’s lapel.

“I admit, my sister helped me pick it.”

“She has good taste.” She plays with the elastic a bit, pulling it up her arm a little; the elastic barely has to stretch around her wrist.

“Stand together, now.” Mrs. Kim has an actual camera out, focusing on her daughter.

“This is why I asked you to come early,” Junghae explains, obediently stepping closer and pulling Chanyeol so they were square and wouldn’t have the pile of shoes at the door in the background. “My mom has a problem. Camera addict.”

“One day, you will look back on this day because of my camera addiction.”

“I could make a flipbook of my life thicker than the encyclopedia series with how many photos you take! And that’s just the physical ones; she has _more_ on the computer.”

Chanyeol laughs, following Mrs. Kim’s suggestions and demands, although he breaks out in a clammy sweat when told to put his arm around Junghae. “My dad’s like that. I think our house is held up with photo frames.”

After a multitude of photos both inside and outside—including some with the family dog, Jiman, or Manny—Junghae reminds her mother why Chanyeol is there in the first place, and she finally pulls out her cell phone for “one more picture,” because Junghae’s dad is working late and can’t be home to see his daughter all done up for prom.

They don’t talk much most of the drive to the venue, a rented banquet hall a few blocks from their school, but Junghae sings along with whatever plays on the radio and raises goosebumps on Chanyeol’s arms with some of her high notes.

The parking lot is packed when they arrive.

“Who can afford a _limo_?” Chanyeol marvels, trolling the parking lot for an open space.

“Baekhee wanted to split the cost with some of us. I thought it was a bit much, so I didn’t join.”

They hand over their tickets at the door and step into some impressive decorating, although a movie premiere theme is pretty simple. A lot of velvet drapes, a logo-patterned backsplash for photos—courtesy of some art kids who made a vintage version of their school mascot—and a red carpet. Black and white balloons were released to cover the ceiling, dangling silver ribbons that Chanyeol swats at.

“Hae Hae!” Baekhee battles her way through the throng, dragging her date by the elbow. She looks beautiful in full makeup and her hair all piled up and pinned around her head. “You guys look amazing!” She plucks Junghae’s sleeve. “You came on your motorcycle, did you?”

“Prom is supposed to be semi-formal. I can’t wait to see you at an actual formal event. You’re gonna go broke.”

“Baek,” her date gently pulls against her hold. “I’m gonna go check out the snacks.”

“Okay. Tell me what they’ve got when you get back.” He disappears, and Baekhee stands on her tip-toes, holding Junghae to keep from tipping.

“You don’t trust him?”

“I haven’t seen Kyungsoon, yet. You know she’s always on time for things.”

“Just look for the darkest spot in the room. That’ll be her.” Junghae nudges Chanyeol. “Hey up there. Can you see a black hole anywhere here?”

He scans the crowd, turning all the way around and looking like a kid lost in the store. “No, sorry.”

Another boy in an entirely black ensemble pats his shoulder. “Chanyeol! There you are. Your drum set’s on stage. Twenty minutes, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Junghae looks up at him, eyebrows raised quizzically. He rubs his neck with an apologetic grin. “My friends and I agreed to play a couple songs for prom.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. If you need to go get ready…”

“Yeah… I’ll be back right after, okay? I promise.”

Baekhee takes Junghae’s hand. “I feel like we’ve already been dumped.” She tugs her friend’s arm. “You didn’t know Chanyeol was playing tonight?”

“No. Why would I?”

“I’d’ve hoped that your coming would make you a bit more interested in the goings-on of planning an event like this,” Baekhee says sourly. “The whole setlist was posted, like, weeks ago.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have your phone on you? My purse is too small to carry mine, and I thought it’d be a bit gaudy to tuck it in my dress. Text Kyungsoon. We’ll keep a hold of her date for her, so he won’t run off.”

Kyungsoon texts back with her location against a wall, by the hall leading to the bathrooms. She looks uncomfortable with her hair off her face, and Baekhee has to coo over how cute she looks without her glasses. Her date, a freshman from a sister school, is dressed in all white to contrast her all-black. Their flowers are opposite, which Junghae thinks is clever. Jongin is shy but friendly and smiles a lot, particularly towards Kyungsoon, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Baekhee. Junghae keeps pinching her friend to keep her from coming up with meddling matchmaker plans.

The music over the speakers stops, and someone with a microphone comes onto the little bandstage to announce the first live act. Chanyeol’s group is on second, followed by a jazz trio and then a DJ for the rest of the night.

Kyungsoon nervously accepts Jongin’s hand when he immediately asks her to dance. Daehyun reappears with a memorized list of all the snacks and drinks set along some tables on another wall. He asks both Baekhee and Junghae to dance, showing off rather poor dancing skills, but no one steps on anyone, and bumping into other students is easily brushed off.

All of the music is easy to dance to with fun beats and upbeat lyrics. Songs that aren’t necessarily dance songs have the room jumping and shouting. Baekhee goes to the bathroom to put on more hairspray more than once. Junghae pats herself on the back for wearing her hair mostly loose. No big deal if it gets bounced around a little or a lot.

Chanyeol’s band introduces themselves as The Beagles with an obnoxiously stereotyped English accent, immediately throwing the crowd into an energetic frenzy with rock song after rock song.

He looks good, Junghae thinks, sitting up behind his drums. The lights don’t hit him as much as the bassist, keyboardist, and guitarist, but he clearly has just as much fun and obviously contributes to the overall beat that everyone is enjoying.

Junghae pushes to the front of the throng when The Beagles say their goodbyes and well-wishes for all the seniors. Chanyeol positively beams, hopping to the floor and wiping sweat from his face with the back of his hand.

“Did you like it?”

“You were amazing! I thought I was going to pass out from screaming so much.” They get pushed aside and go with the flow until they’re at a wall. “Do you need to help move anything?”

He shakes his head, pushing his wet bangs back from his face. “It’ll all get done tonight. Where did everyone go?”

“Got separated. Oh well.” Junghae eyes the beads of sweat still clinging to Chanyeol’s skin. “You wanna stick around?”

“Why? You bored?”

She shrugs a shoulder, stepping closer to let a couple pass behind her. She stands eye-level with his chest. “Not really, but I remember you saying we could go to a movie or something…”

“If you wanna go; we can go. Let me grab my jacket; I left it on stage.”

He leads the way after retrieving his jacket, parting a path for Junghae in his wake.

Outside, it’s cooled off significantly. Junghae regrets not wearing leggings or at least tights. Chanyeol notices her twitchy shiver and holds out his jacket. “Here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m still burning up from playing so hard. I’ll be fine.”

When Junghae was a little kid, she used to play dress up with her parents’ clothing. She liked to mix her mom’s and dad’s clothing, shuffling around in her mom’s heels while wearing her dad’s blazers and a silk scarf. Chanyeol’s jacket reminds her of playing dress-up; it’s enormous and hangs longer than her skirt.

“I could fit a friend in here! How economical.”

The car lights blink when the doors are unlocked. Chanyeol opens the passenger door for Junghae and jogs to the driver’s side. “So. Do you know what movies are playing? Or are you hungry?”

“I could go for a burger or pizza. I’m a cheap date.” Chanyeol’s ears turn pink; the streetlights aren’t enough for Junghae to notice. “Any idea what’s playing, now?”

“Not at all.” Chanyeol carefully looks all around as he backs out, twisting in his seat with his arm behind Junghae’s to watch behind him. “I haven’t been to the movies in eons, it seems, because of studying for exams and baseball practice.”

Junghae slouches in her seat, sitting comfortably with her knees apart. “Well...I’m not impressed.” She closes the browser and texts her friends that she left, not expecting an answer for most of the night. “Let’s get food and go to the beach!”

Chanyeol nods. “Sounds good to me.”

They order Burgers, fries, and shakes at an In-N-Out and eat in the almost deserted dining area. Maybe they look odd, dressed for something conceivably more formal than a dinner of fast food, but no one’s around to pay much attention.

A few cars sit in the parking lot of the public beach. Junghae sees a couple she thinks she recognises.

Junghae runs to the beach, hopping on either foot to pull off her boots. She tosses them aside and barrels down to the water with a wild whoop. She screams as cold waves wash over her feet and dashes up the shore just to chase the waves back to the ocean. Chanyeol rolls up his pantlegs and stuffs his socks into his shoes to join her.

They dig around in the sand for shells to compare, looking like a pair of toddlers in the sandbox. Junghae gleefully holds up a crab, to Chanyeol’s horror, and shrieks when it nips her finger with its claw. She drops it and runs away, screaming and cackling, although it scuttles the opposite direction with no intention of pursuing her.

“Chanyeol,” she calls while pointing ahead of her, “there’s a bonfire down the beach! Grab my boots!” She takes off over the sand. For such a little thing, she’s fast. It’s not easy running on sand, either. Chanyeol takes his time. He’s well aware he’s not the most graceful, even on perfectly flat, solid ground.

She’s wrapped in an older boy’s arms when he arrives, laughing and struggling to get away. “There you are! Minseok, this is Chanyeol Park. Chanyeol, my older brother.”

“Hello.” He sets her boots and socks beside a large tree trunk. “Your shoes.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“You skipped out on prom already?”

“We hung out for a couple hours,” Junghae defends. “Chanyeol actually played a couple songs with his band, which was cool; he played drums but also plays guitar _and_ sings. Didn’t see the king and queen crowned, but it’s probably another cheerleader and jock.” She holds up a hand and looks to the sky. “No offense, Baekhee.”

“I didn’t even go to prom,” Minseok says. “Sometimes I still regret it.”

“We went to Anaheim, though, instead. _Disneyland!_ ”

“Joonmyun asks about it, sometimes. Now you can tell him about it, since you have firsthand experience.” One of Minseok’s friends calls him over, and he leaves the duo to sit together on a large piece of driftwood that had been dragged over for seating.

“Joonmyun is our cousin in Seoul,” Junghae explains to Chanyeol, burrowing her toes into the sand and kicking a shell towards the bonfire. “He’s an idol, so he doesn’t get to do school events all that much, although prom isn’t a thing there, anyway.”

“That kind of sucks. It’s cool he’s an idol, though.”

“I guess I’ve got a pretty musical family, although none of us can play anything other than piano. I’ve wanted to learn guitar, but I have such _tiny hands_.” She spreads her fingers, palms to the night sky. They are petite. Chanyeol thinks they’re really cute. He holds his hand next to hers, and she places her hand on his, lining up their palms and then their fingers and just laughing as she gently slaps his hand. “It’s like holding hands with a bear! Why are you so big?”

Chanyeol blushes; the light from the bonfire turns everything warm tones, so he hopes it blends in. “I dunno. I’m already taller than my dad and uncles.”

“Ugh. I’m jealous.” Junghae scoots back on the driftwood; her feet dangle while Chanyeol’s dig into the sand. “I’ve been this height since sophomore year, maybe growing another inch-ish, but this is evidently as tall as I’m gonna get. Apparently my American diet can’t influence my very Asian genes and make me taller.” She brightens a little, resting her ear on her shoulder and narrowing her eyes to look between her toes at the bonfire. “I am taller than Kyungsoon, at least. I’ll take that. She doesn’t like heels, either, so I can lord over her a little.”

As a boy, and a tall boy at that, Chanyeol can’t really understand Junghae’s frustration, but he finds her a perfectly acceptable size. She’s petite, like her hands; her size, sharp features, and humor remind him of a fairy or nymph.

She rolls her head back to stare at the sky. It’s partly cloudy, stars winking through them every now and then. She doesn’t know her constellations but tries to put together the brightest stars into a picture.

“I know this wasn’t really planned and kinda last minute, but—well— _I_ had fun.” He lowers his voice, adding shyly, “Maybe we can do this again?”

Junghae sees a golden opportunity to tease him, but if he turns any more red, she fears he may combust, and she can also tell he means it. She’s also had fun, more than she thought she would on her own prom night. She grins and leans forward to look at him more squarely. “Chanyeol Park, are you asking me out?”

His voice stays low, eyes furtively looking from Junghae to Minseok, who’s been keeping an eye on them while talking with his own friends. “I-I’m trying, but I’ve never done this before, and your brother’s like _right there_.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s a marshmallow.” She tucks her hair behind her ear again, a nervous show. “And I’m having fun, too; I’d like to do this again. Something without the pressure of prom, though. Maybe next weekend?”

She’s survived prom. Senior year is almost over, and she won’t be a social outcast. Better yet, she has something fun to look forward to even after prom season is over.


End file.
